


Somebody to Love

by afewmistakesago



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, High School, High School AU, it's got cute parts though, not gonna lie, reunited, ten years later and they're very angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 07:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4213764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afewmistakesago/pseuds/afewmistakesago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School Lovers + Reunion, based on the prompt from mywhatafunnygirlthatbelle “Ten long years, living a mere facade of life.” Flashes between high school flashbacks and present day.<br/>Grey Gold spent two years in a relationship with Belle French. When she contacts him again ten years after their breakup, he's wary, but goes to meet with her anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got an eight word prompt and spun it in to a 4K story after thinking about it for a week. Let me know what you think.

They’d known each other for practically their whole lives – most everyone in Storybrooke knew everyone else to some degree. They were often right next to each other on their teacher’s roll call, and from that, they were often seated next to each other. It wasn’t until junior year that they really began to notice each other. Sitting down in Miss Whirlaway’s honors English class, Grey found Belle was already seated next to him. 

“Funny seeing you here,” he said, turning to face her.

She smirked. “French and Gold. F and G. We never fail to sit next to each other, huh?”

“It sucks, right?” he said. They weren’t friends, but they didn’t hate each other. ‘Acquaintance’ was the only word he knew to describe his relationship with her. She was very pretty, very smart, and very out of his league. 

“I don’t mind you,” she said demurely, turning to face the board.

As the teacher began to speak, he corrected his posture. He had heard Miss Whirlaway was a hard teacher, but he didn’t like to pass judgment before he really knew someone. She was older, with graying hair, and was now telling the students this was probably her last year teaching honors English, so don’t make it her least favorite class of all. Yeah. This would fun. She had just told the class they had “social fitness”, and to please talk to the student next to them quietly for the last ten minutes of class.

“How was your summer?” Grey asked Belle, not really caring about her answer. He was distracted, thinking about the work he needed to do on the car he had in his garage.

“It was okay. My mom died,” she said flatly.

Grey hadn’t heard about that. “That doesn’t sound okay at all,” he said, “are you okay?”

She shrugged. “It was a… long time coming,” she said, exhaling loudly and staring at the desk in front of her.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so compelled to hug her, but instead Grey reached over a rubbed her shoulder. “If there’s ever anything I can do to help you, just let me know,” he said. He felt fake as he said it, because he knew that’s probably what everyone said.

“Thanks, Grey. How was your summer?” she asked, “did you fix another car?”

He hadn’t realized she knew he did that. “Uh, yeah! But it’s not finished. I thought I could get it done by school starting, but it’ll be another couple weeks.”

Belle nodded, and said, “You’ll have to invite me to see it someday.”

\---

Grey didn’t often get on Facebook, but something compelled him to open the website before he left for work. A small white notification dinged in the top corner – a friend request. From Belle French. He felt his heart beat quicken, making an instantaneous decision to accept it. Should he have done that? Why was she friend requesting him? They weren’t friends, not anymore.

He stared blankly at his screen for a moment before deciding to click on her profile. It had been almost ten years since he’d seen her in person, but he’d thought about her long after their last night together. In the back of his mind, it always occurred to him that she was probably actively on social media, but he didn’t seek her out. She had sought him out first, apparently.

Her profile wasn’t loaded with posts or photos, but it had enough for him to be busy on his computer before he went to his job. Her profile pictures were all nice, and her current one was her holding a sparkler, slightly out of focus. She still looked great - aged, and she’d grown her hair out, but still great. Her one and only cover photo was of the ocean, with the caption, “missing that vacation.” Her relationship status was single – that was interesting, she had gotten married when he last heard someone in town mention her. She was currently living in Boston, she had gone to a Red Sox game with some friends, she was moving to Storybrooke for her new job – oh. She was moving back. That was something. Grey supposed she wanted to meet up, wanted to see how he was doing. 

Before he could click something too far back and let her know that he had been creeping, he exited out of her profile. The Storybrooke Bank couldn’t operate itself, and he was their one and only accountant. He’d worked his way up from being a teller, and enjoyed his job. Numbers had always been his thing. Work was a good distraction from Belle French stepping back into his life.

\--  
It took Grey a couple weeks to get himself to take action, but Belle did come over to check out the car he had renovated. Fully functional, he insisted as she walked around it - hopefully in admiration of his hard work.

“Prove it,” she said, raising her eyebrows as he told her about its perfect abilities.

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me. Let’s go for a drive, Grey,” she said, plopping herself down into the passenger’s seat.

Grey knew he must be blushing, but he did as she had asked and they drove down some backroads. She had the radio up and the windows down, smiling over at him occasionally. Belle French was in his car. Tennis team captain Belle French. Debate team Belle French. In his car. He had to take her somewhere interesting, at least.

They pulled up to the old diner in the town square, and she got out and looked at him appreciatively.

“Granny’s?” she asked.

“They have the best milkshakes,” he said.

“If you’re paying, I’ll try one,” she said in a flirty voice.

“I can pay,” he said, double-checking to make sure he had his wallet in his pocket.

“It’s a date,” she said, skipping in before him.

It was a date, and the first of many. After her setting the first one, a quiet Saturday tradition was her walking over to his house, and from there, going to Granny’s together. It wasn’t always milkshakes, it was sometimes burgers, or once breakfast, but it was something. Grey noticed she was sitting closer in their classes, touching his shoulder or hand when she didn’t need too. If he knew anything about girls, he would think she had a crush on him. 

“French?” he asked as they walked out of Granny’s after lunch one day.

“Gold?”

“Are we dating?” 

“I thought so,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“I never asked you to be my girlfriend,” he replied.

She shrugged, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “Now’s a good time.”

“I think I’m going to surprise you, French,” he said, smirking as he got back into his car.  
He didn’t ask her officially until the next week, when they were studying for a science quiz. She hit him on the shoulder, then accepted. 

\---

After work, Grey warily opened Facebook. Two new notifications - a message, and Belle had liked his current profile picture. David Nolan had asked him to be the best man at his wedding, and the photo was of him in his suit, laughing at something David had said as he snapped the photo. It was a good picture, but it was a couple years old, at least. He really didn’t update Facebook often. He opened the message.

“Grey! I’m so glad I could find you on here. It’s been too long. I’m moving back to Storybrooke (long story). I saw you’re still living there - want to get together for lunch sometime? I’ll treat. Belle. :)”

She did want to see him again. He thought for a moment, and then replied. “Granny’s, tomorrow, noon.”

Simple. To the point. Choosing their old favorite hang-out was partly for nostalgia, but also so she could see that they had remodeled the place to be more modern. He didn’t go there too much anymore, but he would if she would.

His notifications dinged - she had already replied. “Perfect. See you then.”

It was a good thing he had Fridays off work, because he couldn’t predict what kind of mood this would leave him in. The last time he’d heard from Belle French, she was breaking up with him. They had been trying to date long distance during college, and they both agreed to come home for Thanksgiving Break. He had cooked dinner for them, excited to see her after months apart. She had arrived late, and she seemed off to him, distracted. After dinner, she told him she thought they were drifting apart, but she still wanted to be friends. She just thought they should see other people. He was taken aback - he wanted to marry her. Grey had planned on marrying her since they’d started seeing each other. But, he wanted Belle to be happy, so he let her go. She had called him a few times after that, in attempt to do the “friend” thing, but the calls were few and far between, and then none at all.

\---

Junior year was the hardest academically, but the best socially. Grey’s friends were surprised and impressed when he first brought Belle to hang out with them, but she fit right in to their sarcasm and to-the-point humor. Belle’s friends were a bit warier of Grey and his long-hair, leather jacket style, but Belle made sure everyone got along. Chilly Friday nights were spent at football games, where they’d root for their teams. Belle would sit with his jacket perched on her shoulders, and afterwards there was always a party to go together.

They did it all together - bonfires, pool parties, seeing movies, studying. They had become an inseparable team. They knew each other on another level. One night, Belle had shown up at Grey’s house, in tears. 

He rushed to her side, meeting her on his porch. She took his hand, sitting down with him on his porch swing.

“Six months,” she whispered, burying her head in his shoulder. 

He knew what she was talking about immediately. Six months since Collette French succumbed to cancer, leaving Belle motherless. He knew she didn’t like to think about it, and she told him before that it made her feel empty. She had said Grey made her feel things, real things about the world, because after her mother’s death, the world just seemed, well, gray.  
He let her cry, and they rocked and rocked until she was all cried out. 

“It feels like it’s all too much sometimes,” she sniffled.

“What’s all too much?” he said quietly, holding her in his arms.

“Everything,” she said, “school, clubs, sports, my dad… you’re the only thing keeping me sane, Grey.”

That was big responsibility for a seventeen-year old boy, but he held firm as her rock for the next year, letting her cry and yell, helping her on projects, volunteering where she needed volunteers. He was more in love with her than he could ever tell her, and she with him.  
Senior year and college applications hit them before they knew it. Belle never talked about them splitting up, but applied to colleges near and far. She wanted to be a teacher, to work with high-schoolers like themselves. She wanted to be a positive role-model for a child who might not have one at home. Grey encouraged her, but applied to closer schools for his finance’s sake. They didn’t apply to a single similar college. Whenever he brought it up, she shushed him and insisted they would be fine. And when he pictured his future, he pictured them together.

It just wasn’t in the cards, he supposed after she had left his house for the final time. Belle French, off to change the world, one teenager at a time. Grey Gold, staying in Storybrooke to do nothing.  
\---

He was there early, and he knew it, but he wanted the advantage of picking where they sat. He didn’t pick the booth that was “theirs”, instead picking the table closest to the door so he could jet if he needed too. He nervously tapped on the table, waiting for her.

She strolled in right on time, spotting him immediately. She was in a simple summer dress with large sunglasses that would’ve made anyone else look like a bug, but they framed her face perfectly. Her hair was down and curled. He wondered if she remembered him saying he loved her natural curls, as opposed to the days she straightened it. It was pretty either way. She was pretty in every way. 

“Grey,” she said, sitting opposite of him.

“French,” he said. Ten years later, and he still hadn’t broken his habit of calling her by her surname. He might’ve been staring at her, but she was a once-familiar now-stranger, sipping an iced tea like this wasn’t a revolutionary reunion. 

There was an awkward silence, with Belle ordering her meal, and asking for a separate check. She was watching him carefully, and he was now watching the clock. Could time actually be frozen?

“You look great,” she said finally, “what are you doing now?”

“I’m an accountant at the Storybrooke Bank.”

She beamed. “So you did do something with numbers! You were always great with math, I remember.”

He let himself smile back. “Yeah, I’m okay. Did you become a teacher?”

He knew she had from her Facebook profile, but it was a safe question.

“Yeah, I did. Get this, I’m taking Whirlaway’s job.”

“Honors English? She should’ve stopped teaching years ago!”

Belle laughed. “I know! They finally got her to really retire, and Boston was getting old, so… here I am. Back in Storybrooke.”

He nodded. “That you are. Did you enjoy Boston?”

“Boston is a wonderful city, and I’ll miss the friends I made there. But, I got married and divorced there. So it’s like everything is kind of stained, you know?”

It was ironic of her to say that, when she had stained all of Storybrooke for him, but he kept quiet. He hadn’t entered this diner in years because of her. He couldn’t smell something similar to her perfume, because it took him to nights in her room. She hadn’t stopped him from dating completely, but she was always in the back of his head, reminding him that she’d left him.

“You got married?” he finally replied. 

“Yeah. Only for a couple years, really, and the divorce was a few years ago, but… his name was Will. Will Scarlett. We met in college. He was a business major, I was education, and the buildings were right next to each other… we got married right out of college, but we fought a lot.”

Grey was still trying to picture her as “Belle Scarlett”. She really liked color names, he supposed. He nodded for her to continue her story.

“He didn’t want kids,” she said, “and he took a job offer in Dallas. I didn’t want to leave New England,” she finished, shrugging. “So, that was that. Married and divorced and single again by 28.”

Grey nodded, taking in her words. She would probably remarry, she was too personable and lovely for someone not to snap her up.

“How about you?” she asked, looking at Grey. “Did you ever get married?”

“Married? No,” he said, “but I’ve done some dating. Nothing serious.”

“No, I was supposed to marry you, and nobody else has ever made me feel the way you did,” he thought bitterly. It was bittersweet in every respect to see her sitting back in Storybrooke.

“Dating? Anyone I know?” she asked curiously.

“Maybe… Zelena Mills for a bit, a woman named Milah shortly after that.”  
Her jaw dropped. “Zelena? She was always jealous of me for dating you, you know.”

He knew that. She had always dropped crazy hints at him his senior year, but he was very involved with Belle. When he came back to Storybrooke single after college, they went on a couple dates before she realized he wasn’t as invested in their relationship as she was.

“Who’s the other woman? Milah? Did she go to our high school?” said Belle, trying to remember if the name was familiar to her.

“It was maybe five years ago. She only lived here for a little while, and it was pretty serious, but we really didn’t agree on a lot of things. Wasn’t meant to be. We broke off our engagement pretty quickly.”

“You were engaged?”

“Is that surprising?”

“No.”

He knew she was surprised, really. Their food had arrived, which allowed some silence as they ate the classic diner fare. 

“You’re a grown woman, French, and you’re ordering grilled cheese.”

She blushed. “Sorry,” she said in a sing-song voice through bites of the gooey sandwich.  
Before long, the food was cleared away.  
\---

The County Fair rolled into Storybrooke every summer. It featured games, rides, fried foods, and variety acts. Grey had asked Belle to be his date, and she happily agreed. They spent the early part of the day with some of their friends, David, Ruby, Jefferson, and Regina, but they all went on their various ways after dinner. Grey had won Belle a large teddy bear, which she carried like a badge of honor. It had taken multiple attempts and most of his pocket change, but it was worth it for her jubilance. It was the middle of summer, and they were both stress-free. She looked beautiful as ever in her summertime romper, and he was proud to call her his as she held his hand. 

When it got dark, the neon lights went on for all the rides and signs. It was a breathtaking sight, and Belle admired it as they shared a funnel cake. She had gotten powdered sugar all over her nose, but he let it sit for a moment. 

“What are you smiling at?” she asked, crinkling her nose.

He reached over with a napkin in hand to wipe it off for her. “You’ve got something.”

“Oh my gosh,” she said, “that’s so embarrassing, Grey!”

“It looked cute, French.”

She rolled her eyes, then something caught her eye. “The Ferris Wheel’s line is super short. Let’s go.”

She left the teddy bear in a classmate’s care, and then they walked hand in hand to towards the Ferris Wheel.

Grey wasn’t necessarily afraid of heights, but they weren’t his favorite thing in the world. He must’ve looked nervous, because Belle stopped him before they got on.

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You look scared. We don’t have to go on this if you don’t want to.”

“I can do it,” he insisted, and so they boarded the little cart that would take them around the wheel.

They sat in silence, his arm around her, as they reached the top of the Ferris Wheel. From there, they heard a great squeak and some commotion. Belle peered over the side to see what was happening on the platform below them, but Grey stared ahead. “I think we’re stuck,” said Belle flatly.

“Great,” he replied quickly.

“Hey- don’t be nervous, they’ll get us down quick,” she assured him.

Grey decided to admire the view. Storybrooke’s fairground had been transformed with all the rides, and now all the rides were bordered with neon signs, whirring around and electrifying the night sky. It was a great view, truly. Belle was at his side, and it was a wonderful feeling. There was no one he’d rather share this night with. No one he’d rather be stuck on a Ferris Wheel with.

“I love you,” he said aloud. 

She looked at him sharply. “Did you just say that?”

He nodded.

“Well,” she said, “in that case, I love you too. I have for a while, but I didn’t know when I should say it.”

He nodded again. “I figured on top of a Ferris Wheel was a good time as any.”

She snuggled closer to him and kissed him. “It was the perfect time.”  
\---  
Belle asked if he went to Granny’s often.

“No,” he confessed, “I couldn’t really, after you…”

She looked away. “Oh,” she said simply.

Belle was normally very sure of herself, but this was a delicate moment. “I’m sorry,” she said finally.

It was ten years ago that she had broke his heart. Ten long years, pretending he wasn’t still in love with a ghost of a woman. He had mostly moved on, but now she was sitting in front of him, very real. 

“It’s okay,” he replied.

“No, Grey, it isn’t. I thought I could do this, you know?” she said, “I thought I could come here and see you again, and be mature about it, but I’ve missed you so damn much,” she continued, rubbing her forehead with her hand like she suddenly had a headache.

It was his turn to say, “oh.”

“Did you know our anniversary is coming up? In August, it’ll be twelve years since I made you take me on our first date.”

“I don’t know that you made me, sweetheart-” he began, but she began talking again.

“I thought breaking up with you was the right thing to do. I thought it was only a high school thing, and that I wouldn’t even care after a while. You were always there, though, in the back of my mind, reminding me that I chose to go. I found Will, and we were happy, for at least a while, but then that was over, and then I was packing to move out, and an old yearbook was opened and there we were,” she said. She was blabbering, but Belle had always talked a lot when she was nervous.

He remembered that. A yearbook staff member had captured them on the bleachers, her with her head resting against his shoulder as they sat and watched a pep rally. The photo was really good, he had to admit, and the staff used it as their centerpiece on the first page.

“And I got to thinking,” she said, snapping him out of his nostalgia, “I thought, when was I the happiest? When I was with you. High school was the worst, no doubt, but you were so special, Grey. We were so special.”

It looked like she was going to cry. 

“I know we were special,” he said quietly. “I’ve known it since that afternoon you cried on my porch.”

She looked at him curiously. Maybe she didn’t remember that.

“You were crying when you came over. It had been six months since your mom died. We sat on the front porch swing and you cried, and cried, and cried, and I just let you. I held you and let you cry, and I thought to myself, ‘I wish I could take all the sadness away from her, I wish I could take it and she wouldn’t have to.’” Grey took a deep breath, and continued, “I realized then how much I loved you, how much I wanted you to smile and be happy. As long as you were with me Belle, I would’ve done anything to make you happy. I was ready to give you the world. We might have been eighteen, but I knew what I wanted.”

Belle reached out for his hand, and her voice broke as she replied, “I remember that.”

He pulled his hand back, and sighed. “And then you were gone, Belle.”

“If I could change anything, I would go back and fix it. I would’ve been more dedicated, more worthy of you…”

“The past is the past, Belle.”

“You’re calling me by my first name, so I know you’re serious,” she said with a soft smile.

“It’s hard to see you here again,” he admitted. “But I’m not unhappy. I’ve missed you a lot, too.”

“Well, I’m here again, for real.”

“For real, maybe. But for how long?” 

“What do you mean?” she asked, eyeing him warily.

“You’re kind of flighty, Belle, you can’t deny it. You don’t like settling into one place for too long.”

“I was in Boston for almost ten years,” she insisted.

“Yeah, but how often did you move?”

“I finished college there and taught at one school for five years,” she said, “and I moved a few times, yeah, but that was when I was married, then living with various friends after the divorce…”

“How long until Storybrooke bores you?”

She glared. “Maybe one more day.”

He laughed at that, and she began to laugh too. They were being so catty. 

“Grey, I don’t want you to hate me,” she said. 

“I could never hate you, French. I just don’t want to fall back in love with you to have you disappear the next day.”

There were thousands of questions to ask her, thousands of stories to tell. He wanted to know if teaching had been as rewarding as she had hoped, if she still refused to believe in miracles, and if she still slept with that teddy bear from the fair. He couldn’t let himself get his hopes up, to have answers to these questions, if it would only lead him down a path to destruction.

She swallowed. “I won’t.”

He nodded slowly, then stood from his seat.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, looking hurt.

“I think lunch is over. But I don’t see why we couldn’t come again tomorrow. To talk more.”

“Like our old tradition,” she smiled.

“Like our old tradition,” he affirmed, taking her hand as she got up from her seat.

It had been nearly ten years since they had exited Granny’s Diner together, but it seemed they were about to start all over again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This goes through major life moments for Belle and Grey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning that this does end with a death. I will take prompts to tell more bits of Belle and Grey's story, but these were the major moments that stand out in their story, outlining what happens to them during and after they get back together. I was inspired to continue this by a friend saying "Flowers in Your Hair" by The Lumineers reminded her of this 'verse.

_It was a week before Belle was leaving for college, and Grey was sitting idly on a blanket with her in the middle of a field. The grass surrounding them was tall, humming with insects that Belle swatted at angrily. There was enough of a breeze to make it a day that demanded to be spent outside. Grey was sitting up, reading a book, and Belle was next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. She was quiet, unusually so. He was turning the pages of the book, but he wasn’t really reading. He knew this would be one of their last days together, before she left for college and everything changed. Looking back, he wished they would’ve talked more, wished Belle had ended it then and avoided the torture of their brief long-distance attempt. They were talking, but while the air was heavy with “everything” and it was easiest to talk about nothing._

_Just as he was about to suggest they pack up for the day, she was up and walking the field barefoot, her sandals long forgotten. He watched her curiously, seeing her pick wildflowers carefully. She sat back down, concentrating on weaving the long stems into a crown. She placed it on her head with a small smile, waiting on his approval._

_She had never looked more beautiful to him – the sunshine made her brown hair and fair skin practically glow, her eyes were accentuated by her blue dress, and the flowers hung around her head in a triumphant but relaxed way. He wanted to remember her like this forever, this summertime ethereal kind of beauty._

_He smiled back, carefully removing the crown from her head and placing it on his own. She rolled her eyes, and he thought she was reaching for the crown back, but instead surprised him with a kiss._

_“What was that for?” he asked, leaning back as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders._

_“Nothing,” she said, “Nothing at all.”_

_So they lay like that, entangled with each other, speechless, until Belle’s father called and asked when she would be home to make dinner. He drove her home, one hand on the wheel and one holding hers._

-

Reuniting was a slow process. He was cautious, she was nervous, and they were both different people. Belle viewed the world more skeptically, wise to the ways of the world after a brief marriage and divorce. Her eyes still lit up when she talked to her students, but other adults made her wary. Grey was quieter, less likely to agree with everything she said. He maintained a steady group of friends who encouraged him to try again, but trying again was a small step that seemed to be a steep ledge.

They were both discovering facts about what had happened during the time period they didn’t know each other. She filled him in on pieces of her marriage when she felt comfortable enough to share, and he spoke of his ex-fiancée with an heir of disbelief that he’d even proposed marriage. Their likes and dislikes had changed – food, movies, books. He had cut his long hair, a fact Belle silently begrudged. She had dyed hers blonde for a spell, but settled back to brown after the shock factor wore off.

Storybrooke had welcomed Belle back like an old friend, and nobody seemed too surprised when they began to show up to parties in one car, not two. She didn’t move in with him right away. They were waiting, taking it slowly, making sure they were on the same page every step of the way.

They might’ve been slow to admit to their feelings, but it was all too fast to feel them. Right away, they could feel it again. The spark when they caught each other’s eye across the room, the loving comfortableness with each other. It took a few months of dating for either of them to confess that they had re-fallen in love with each other after their many dates that involved everything from grilled cheeses at Granny’s to helping Belle decorate her classroom to Grey properly explaining finances to her. He could even make finances thrill her. It was the little things that created a big thing.

Dropping her off at her house after a few months of dating, she invited him in for coffee. He was surprised at how easy it was to fall back into her arms that night. Just like that, they were one again.

Moving forward together was not always easy, however. Both of them had hidden inner fears, and Belle in particular struggled with her past. One night, her and Grey had fought over something petty, and she whispered a confession she’d felt laying on her for months.

“I feel like you’re angry at me for marrying someone else,” she said, her eyes filling with hot tears. “But you weren’t there and I loved him, or I thought I did.”

He stared at her, incredulous. “I’m not mad at you. That’s a part of your life that you’ll always have.”

She stared at the floor, whispering some kind of apology. Belle had often insisted her past marriage didn’t mean anything to her, but he knew divorce took a toll on anyone who had to go through it. He took her hands, pleading with her to look him in the eyes.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. We all have different stories. Yours involved someone else, and that’s fine. People get married and divorced and it happens. You’re not limited to loving one person in your lifetime.”

Belle nodded, stepping into his hug. “We won’t get divorced, will we?” she asked, her voice barely audible. He hadn’t even proposed, but they both knew it was inevitable.

“Of course we won’t,” he said, and he was confident in his words. Ten years had separated them, but he intended to live out the rest of his life with her.

-

 

Their wedding was a small affair. It was her second, his first, but they wanted it to be done right. It was a long time coming, thirteen years in the making. In a local abandoned barn decorated with fairy lights, her last name became his. High school friends spoke at the reception, telling stories of the high school sweethearts. Grey’s co-workers spoke of the change in his demeanor when Belle re-entered his life, and Belle’s superiors spoke fondly of Grey volunteering at the school. The highlight of the ceremony was their vows to each other, genuine and patient and kind and all that love was supposed to be.

She fit perfectly into his arms in her white dress, swaying with him to their first dance. As the singer crooned about forevers, she whispered to him that she was so incredibly excited to be his. He returned the sentiment, and they danced the night away. Their honeymoon was a fantastical tour of the New England coast, unforgettable sights and breathtaking adventures.

-

She was tiny when she was born – almost too small to be a real human, he thought, looking through the glass at his daughter. Belle was asleep in her bed, absolutely exhausted after a terrifying premature labor.

She was strong when she was born – forcing her still developing lungs to breathe, crying with strength he didn’t know babies had. Doctors were in and out, nurses offering him reassuring pats on the back, but he hadn’t sleep in days. He just sat, watching her. This premature baby, this product of their love, was laying right in front of him. Could she tell she was the most overwhelmingly loved person on the planet? Did she know that her parents were rooting for her with all their might, both praying to any God that she would survive this night, then the next, then the next?

The doctors let him hold her. He had to wear gloves, and she was just bigger than his palm, but he got to hold her. Belle was awake now, staring at them with bleary, happy eyes.

The baby was awake, too, and staring at him curiously. He felt it was right to introduce himself. “I’m your dad,” he said, “and over there is your mama. And we love you more than you could ever imagine,” he said, feeling the thick emotion in his voice.

“And we need you to be strong, okay?” he said, and Belle wiped a tear from her eye in her bed. They let her hold the unnamed baby next, and she cradled her as closely as the machines would allow, singing softly.

Later, when she the baby was wheeled away, Belle begged Grey to go home and sleep. He didn’t. The next day, when Belle was released, she felt the biggest grief she ever had for leaving a part of her in the hospital. When they arrived home, Grey collapsed onto their bed, sleeping fitfully.

After Belle was sure Grey had enough sleep, they visited the hospital, watching the fighting pink newborn grow stronger and stronger. She was too small to fit into any of the clothes they had bought, but it was okay. She would be okay, they knew it with all their hearts.

Her name was Winnie Collette Gold, and she was the most loved little girl in the world.

-

 

Despite the odds against her, Winnie thrived at everything she put her mind to, and her parents were endlessly proud of her. She stayed competitive as well, always fighting for her spot on sports teams and acing the elementary school’s homework.

Belle and Grey were swaying back and forth gently on their porch swing, watching their two children entertain each other in the yard. Winnie was nine years old and thought herself to be an expert on everything, and her brother Patrick was five years old and followed her around like she was.

The sun was setting, the fireflies beginning to emerge. Belle rested her head on Grey’s shoulder, whispering, “did you have any idea?”

“Any idea of what, sweetheart?”

“This,” she said, nodding at their children, content to play in their own world as their parents watched from a distance.

 “Yes.”

“Yes?”

 “I knew all the way back in high school that I would end up here,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

She sighed happily. Parenthood was everything and more than she had hoped it would be - with days both good and bad, never unchallenging, but always exciting. Tantrums and fights would follow, but she loved her two children more and more each day as they grew and discovered and became their own people. As they both went on their way to college and then the world, they found themselves with an empty nest.

 

-

 

Empty nesting led to traveling. They had saved their pennies over the years, using them now to travel to different worlds, dabble in foreign languages and cultures. Grey’s favorite destination was Scotland, because they visited the town his ancestors had come from. Belle’s favorite was England, and the English teacher in her was particularly excited during the Shakespeare tour.

They paused their grand travels, eventually. They returned to their home in Storybrooke when Winnie came home with an engagement ring, leading to a wedding, which led to Grey and Belle’s first grandchild. Sarah Rose looked just like Belle, and they often volunteered to watch her for weekends. As they watched Winnie raise her own daughter, they fondly reminisced on raising her and her brother. Patrick arrived home from college with a boyfriend and a worried explanation, but both were met with smiles and hugs all around. Years later, he married his husband, and they adopted twins.

They’d seen the world, and they’d seen their toddling grandchildren. It was almost like they’d seen it all. Grey felt like the luckiest man alive, to have all these people in his life and his Belle to hold.

 

-

 

She didn’t recognize him again. He had gone to visit her in the facility that Winnie had insisted she live like he did every day. After one too many close calls with unlocked doors, Belle couldn’t be left alone. Some days were good days, and she held his hand tightly and they talked like nothing had changed. Today, she didn’t recognize him. He came prepared. He showed her photos of their wedding, of her swollen pregnant belly, of Winnie and Patrick’s christenings, of their graduations, of their weddings and their children. He showed her a photo of them at ruins in Mexico, of them at the Great Wall of China. She smiled at all of them, but she didn’t recognize them.

"I’m not sure where my husband is today,” she said, taking the photos in her shaking hands. “These are beautiful photos.”

“I’m your husband,” he said gently, full of patience.

“This is my husband,” she said, pointing to their wedding photo. “I love him more than - more than anything in the world. He works at the bank."

“He loves you, too.”

“I can’t - I can’t seem to remember his name,” she said, and he could tell she was beginning to cry, overwhelmed at all the information she could no longer grasp.

“His name is Grey,” he whispered, taking her hand in his.

She turned to look at him again, and he saw it. The flicker, the change in her demeanor. She perked up immediately. “Grey,” she said, “I’ve missed you since your last visit.”

“I missed you, too, love.” He missed his Belle, the one hidden underneath what the Alzheimer’s had made her. She was there sometimes, but lately, she was just living in the past.

“Winnie brought Sarah Rose over - she’s getting so big, Grey, so big.”

“I know.” Grey had been there when Winnie brought her daughter over, and Belle had told this story every time he had visited since.

“I don’t - I don’t want to miss it,” said Belle. This was a veer from their normal conversation.

“Miss what, Belle?” he said, gently.

“I don’t want to miss them growing up,” she whispered, and he could sense the desperation in her voice.

He didn’t want to tell her that it was too late for that, that Sarah was graduating high school and the twins were just beginning. The  children and their children visited, but Belle’s good days were few and far between and it was hard for them to see their grandmother like she was now. Grey hated that she couldn’t remember their names the last time they had all stopped by, but didn’t hate them for not stopping by frequently. It was selfish of them, but he knew the empty feeling that consumed him on days his Belle didn’t know him.

Instead of answering, he took her hand, guiding her up from the chair in her room. They went on a quiet walk around the garden, and when they got back to her room and he went to get her some water, the recognition was gone again.

“Hello,” she said cautiously, “I’m just waiting for my husband to visit.”

He nodded. “He’ll be here soon.”

-

Her clearest day was the one before her last. She was more energetic than she had been in recent days, perfectly lucid and aware of who he was. He had brought her a to-go milkshake from Granny’s, and she smiled so brightly, like he had given her the world. She told him, her voice strong and warm, about remembering being sixteen, in love with the boy who sat next to her in almost every class. She told him about going to Granny’s again and again on dates with him, and then finding him there again after they parted ways. She sipped the treat slowly, savoring the flavor. She told Grey how happy she was to have lived with him, to have seen the world by his side, how lucky she felt to have had the honor to raise their children. They both knew, silently and sincerely, it was time for her to go. The finality of it all rang clear in the air. She was ready. She’d done all she had wanted to, and she was content.

He saw her last with a smile on her face as she fell asleep, looking every bit as beautiful as she had when they were teenagers with flowers in their hair.

           

 


End file.
